


Starving Monsters Must Be Fed

by colourfulpaints



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Bounty Hunters, Demon Hunters, Demon!AU, Demon!Jason, Demons, M/M, Old West!AU, Rating will change, Sex eventually, Supernatural Creatures, Vampires, human!Tim, jaytim centric, kinda slow burn, lots of sex those chapters just arent posted yet so, only hints at noncon, this is gonna be a long one
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-09 14:30:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15269505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colourfulpaints/pseuds/colourfulpaints
Summary: semi-inspired by lila bowen's wake of vulturesSet in New Mexico area around 1860s demon au,Tim is a monster hunter, on his way to aid a fellow hunter with a powerful demon in Sedona, when his journey is disrupted by a too curious demon who has an unnatural interest in the slight human. After dire circumstances lead them to be tied by blood, Tim is drawn into a hunt that is much more convoluted than he could have ever imagined."Pretty bird, you're going to be the death of me.""Good thing you're already dead."





	1. Im not a fucking porcelain doll you are

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So this was semi inspired by lila bowens wonderful amazing book wake of vultures if you havent read it before you absolutely need to because its got a genderqueer poc as the main character and is super awesome and fun 
> 
> Premise of this au: jason is a demon and a bounty hunter, tim is a demon hunter. Takes place in the old west kind of era in the desert. I have about 25 chapters planned as of now, but the plot is flexible so if people like this and depending on what yall want i can switch it up  
> Im lazy im not gonna do a ton of historical research if im wrong about something correct me please

Tim squinted at his smudged reflection in the dirty cracked looking glass, attempting to smear the garish rouge on his cheeks further into his skin. Maybe then it wouldn’t look so ridiculous. His pale skin glowed in the poor lighting, too long hair gently curled around his face, muscled shoulders hidden by a moth eaten shawl, leaving only a much more delicate looking collarbone dusted with a shimmery powder. His crisp blue eyes were lined with kohl, resisting the urge to smudge it. He shifted uncomfortably in the tightly laced corset, giving him more of a female figure than he really had, dark red skirts hitched up on one hip revealing the top of a garter. He fixed his hair once more before steeling himself and stepping out of the room. This was far fromj the first time that he had laced himself into being a woman to get work done, but it had been a while since he’s had to go this far with it. The hallway was dimly lit as well, and he could hear every noise from the bar downstairs. Another girl left her room at the same time as him, glancing over to the passable young man. He smiled demurely, gesturing for her to go down the stairs first, and she acquiesced. 

 

“When we get to the bar,” He whispered, hardly audible over the creak of the stairs and the chatter of men, “tell the bartender to buy the man a whisky. I’ll take care of the rest, and keep the other girls away from him. I don’t want them to get involved.”

 

She nodded, and he could see the tremor in her shoulders, the pallor of her face. He placed a reassuring hand on her arm, turning her to face him mid step. 

 

“I promise, this will be over before the night has truly fallen.” 

 

She subconsciously reached for the wound on her neck, tugging a scarf over the barely concealed bite mark, nodding again, this time more reassured. 

 

He smiled, pushing her forward gently, as they stepped onto the floor. 

 

Scattered whistles came as he flashed his best fake grin, swaying his thin hips, one foot in front of the other as he approached the bar, watching the confusion flash across a man’s face as an unprompted glass of cheap whisky set before him. He was pallid, greasy hair tied back, long heavy coat nearly touching the floor. It was odd, a vampire feeding this often should not look as sick. Usually after feeding they were even more attractive to their human thralls. Well, at least it would be easier to kill. 

 

Tim sashayed up to the target, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear and subtly baring his neck, waving coaxing fingers at the bartender, who dropped off his “usual”, slamming back the shot and turning back to the vampire.

 

“What are you looking for tonight sweetheart,” Tim asked, a feminine affectation to his voice, dancing his fingers over the cold hand of the monster, “a girl to warm your bed?”

 

The vampires eyes flicked from his fabricated cleavage, to the pale column of his neck, to his eyes, grabbing Tim’s wrist, bringing it to his lips. Tim shivered involuntarily as sharp teeth grazed the delicate skin there. 

 

“What a pretty little bird,” Tim felt like retching at the oil slick sound of the monsters voice, “I will say red is surely your color.” 

 

He swallowed the bile rising in his throat and forced another sickening sweet smile. Well then, I promise I am the best here you can get for the price,” he ran his tongue over his own teeth, biting his lower lip hard enough to draw a prick of blood, wincing slightly, but continuing to rub the blood over the pale pink of his lips with his tongue. He leaned forward on his tip-toes, smudging a bloody kiss on the monster’s cheek, “follow me upstairs,” he whispered, pulling away heart pounding with adrenaline, and he was sure the vampire could hear it. He didn’t need to look back to know he was going to be followed. 

 

He paused at his door, waiting until he felt a hand wrap around his corseted waist, cold lips pressing to the side of his neck. 

 

A predatory growl reached his ears, “you smell good enough to eat little girl.”

 

Tim chuckled falsely, stepping through the door, only having a second before the vampire grabbed him around the waist and shoved him against the wall, shoving his disgusting tongue into his mouth. 

 

He gagged a bit before opening his mouth, letting the monster do as he will. He just needed to get over to the bed, where his weapons were, but the vampire seemed rather content to quite literally neck him against the wall. Realizing he would have to move things along himself, he went to drop to his knees, already reaching for the stake beneath the bed, but was stopped by a large cold hand around his neck. 

 

He froze, the vampire pulling back, eyes turning red as he glared at Tim, squeezing until he scrabbled blunt nails against his hand, gasping for breath. 

 

“I know you are a hunter little bird, I could smell it in your blood,” he hissed, dragging a slimy tongue up the side of his face, “and I can’t wait to suck you dry,” growling as he lifted Tim by his neck and threw him on the bed.

 

Tim’s lungs burned as he drew in heaving breaths. Cursing as his legs tangled in his skirt. Reaching up under the pillow for the holy stake he had stashed there. 

 

Before he could wrap his fingers around it, the monster yanked his ankle, pulling him back down to the edge of the bed, pressing one knee between his shoulder blades, once more driving the air from his lungs. 

 

“Hmm,” the vampire considered his splayed body, pulling up his skirt and sliding a hand up the back of his now bare thigh, “but maybe I will fuck you first.” 

 

He grunted, squirming beneath the weight, kicking his heeled boots at the assailants legs, stretching for the stake. 

 

He managed to land a well placed kick, cracking it against his temple. Crawling up towards the headboard as fast as he could. Grabbing the stake. Turning to run it through the vampire, only to be met with a hissing face from hell. 

 

His eyes were glowing red and needle sharp teeth dripped with venom. His heart skipped a beat as the creature lunged. 

 

He drove the stake underneath its ribcage.

 

An unearthly shriek rattled the foundations of the building. 

 

Tim held the steak into the body until he saw the eyes turn grey and the body cracked like porcelain.

 

Breathing heavily he withdrew his weapon, hands slightly trembling, standing from the bed and slumping to the floor. He wanted to burn his clothes and maybe a layer of his skin off. The side of his face and neck from the creatures viscous saliva, skirt rucked up and hair a mess. 

 

It was over. 


	2. bloody cigarettes whats sexier than that

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jason time yayyy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jasons turn!! my boy  
> next chapter theyll meet, ill hopefully get around to it tomorrow  
> these chapters are going up fast ive very motivated  
> Lady_Lemon commented so shes the reason i finished this chapter at 2am

Jason sipped on the best whisky he could buy in this shit bar and watched the pretty hunter in the dress approach the vampire. He was captivating, and when he bit his lip, Jason could smell his blood across the room. It was intoxicating in the way this shit whisky could never be. He was half tempted to drag this little hunter away, tear the vamps head off with his bare hands, and run away in the night together. 

 

But he had a job to do, and clearly this hunter did as well. Sighing he finished his drink and watched wistfully as the beautiful boy led the monster up the stairs. Fucker didn’t even deserve to breathe the same air as the hunter. At least he wouldn’t, not longer than a few minutes more. 

 

He stood, making his way towards the bar for his own target, a seedy man with patchy facial hair who stood in the opposite corner, his hand bruising the arm of one of the girls, harshly whispering in her ear and passing a small bottle of what he knew to be laudanum. She was clearly in pain, and he was drugging her to shut her up so she could still work. 

 

Fucking disgusting.

 

Leaving the glass on the edge of the bar, striding after the pimp who had released the girls arm, and was now stepping out into the alley, presumably to jack himself off.

 

He was honestly surprised to find the man simply standing with a cigarette dangling between his lips. 

 

“Hey”, Jason’s voice just loud enough to be audible, standing still about 10 feet away from the man.

 

“What the fuck you want,” the man drawled, looking Jason up and down disdainfully. Even though he was about half a foot taller than the pimp, he still seemed to be looking down on him, a tired sneer twisting his features. 

 

Jason grinned, too sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight. 

 

“I want to know why you were hurting that little girl. She has to be 16 at most.” Jason stalked forward, steps slow and deliberate. 

 

“What I do at my own place of business is of no concern of —”

 

“I want to know”, cutting off the indignant pimp, “how many teenagers you have buried behind your fucking so called ‘place of business’.”

 

The man stuttered, backing down the alleyway a few steps before Jason caught up to him, pinning him against the wall, grabbing his jaw in one hand, forcing him to meet his eyes. 

 

“I want to know how many girls you forced to overdose, just so they could take one more cock and earn you an extra buck, “ he spat the words in the man’s face, now only inches away, eyes flashing an unnatural acid green, sharp black claws extending, digging into his cheek, a slow trickle of blood rolling down into his barely there beard. 

 

The man gaped like a fish trying to find words, only a moment before Jason shook him hard, slamming his head against the wall like a ragdoll, shouting,

 

“HOW MANY!?” Fury blazed in his eyes, digging his nails deeper into his flesh, “How many girls? I know you know how many I know you have a number! What the fuck is the fucking number!?”

 

The fear in the man’s eyes almost made all of this worth it. It was delicious, rolling off of him in waves. But those girls were innocent, and this man’s suffering had only just begun. 

 

“Fourteen!” The man was crying, pathetically shaking in Jason’s hands, “Fourteen girls”, he sobbed, “please god forgive me!” The man reached for his wallet, holding it in trembling hands, eyes pleading, staring back into Jason’s cold gaze, “Was one of them your wife? I’ll pay you as much as you want just god, please” he held out a few crumpled bills in a shaky fist, “please god let me live.”

 

Jason hissed, sneering, “There is no god here,” before ripping open the mans guts with the flick of a wrist. 

 

His eyes widened in shock as he watched his own insides spill onto the street.

 

Jason’s grin widened, reaching up into the man with a sickening squelch, warm organs pulsing around his hand until he closed it around his erratically still beating heart. 

 

“I want you to know”, Jason spoke conversationally, “After I consume your heart and leave your body here to rot, you are going to be treated very nicely by my friends in hell." 

 

The demon tore his heart into the open air, considering it for a minute before sinking his teeth into it, watching as the life faded from his victims eyes, dropping the body to the ground. 

 

The muscle was soft and the tendons crunched between his teeth, still warm, bittersweet blood of a sinner running down his chin, staining the collar of his shirt. He was starving, devouring the entire organ in under a minute, even leaning back down for a piece of the liver and half of a kidney. Sinners never tasted as good as a more virtuous victims, but he had been starving for the past week. 

 

Jason retracted his claws, wiping his bloody hands on the dead man’s trousers, stealing his wallet and cigarettes, lighting one, not bothering to clean the blood from his face. Walking away from the dead body, smoking casually as if he had just stepped outside for a break from the oppressive heat of the bar. 

 

As he rounded the corner of a building, he saw the pretty hunter, leaving the bar, no longer in that adorable skirt but rather, trousers with the corset overtop. It was just as captivating. 

 

He watched as the boy made his way over to a modest carriage, but a carriage nonetheless. The horse broke into a brisk trot, turning down the road out of town. So the hunter was a successful one, or just a rich boy with too much time on his hands. Either way, the next few days would be fun. 

 

He had left his horse on the outskirts of the small town, the supernatural beast oversensitive to the noises and smells of humans, but he was soon on her back, following the faint imprints of the carriage wheels in the moonlit dust, the scent of the hunter’s blood faint in the air. 

 

Jason lit another cigarette and nudged his heels into her flank.

 

"It's going to be a long night Sheila."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> timmy and jay meet next chapter, sexual tension  
> also jay is such a drama queen i love him


	3. I won't bite unless you ask

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi darlings so sorry this took so long to post i got a new job and then yesterday had my wisdom teeth taken out so im kinda high on painkillers rn but it got me start writing again lol 
> 
> thank you for sticking around loves <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i dont speak latin correct my bad latin pls lol

 

 

Tim shed his skirt, tossing it in his back and pulling on a pair of much more sensible trousers. Glancing at the rapidly disintegrating body, he needed get out of there as quickly as possible. The corset was uncomfortable but it would take too long to unlace. Yanking a jacket over one shoulder he grabbed his bag, heels clicking on the rickety wooden steps down to the bar, stopping only for a moment to grab a roll of folded clean bills from behind the bar. He left without a second look, finally breathing freely in the cool night air. 

 

The carriage he had taken was only a few buildings down. Typically he would choose to ride his own horse, it was faster, but recent circumstances necessitated heavier equipment. A fellow hunter had sent for his help near Sedona. Well rather, she had sent for his tools. 

 

The moon was high in the sky as he walked briskly towards his patiently waiting horse, the gelding tossing his hair in the gentle breeze. Tim crooned at the beast, scratching behind his ears, readjusting the leather halter, checking all the straps to the carriage, ensuring that his feed bag was full and the water trough was significantly empty enough for them to put a good amount of distance between them and this town. He wasn’t particularly fond of the itching feeling he had on the back of his neck since the moment he had stepped into that bar. Like he was being watched, by more than just some gross human clientele.

A shiver ran down his spine once more, looking back behind him before hoisting himself up into the carriage, urging the horse into a brisk trot through the custom window he had designed so he could drive from inside. Not only was it to protect his too fair skin from the punishing desert sun, he could remain somewhat anonymous when necessary. 

 

Tonight however it was beneficial in another way. Keeping one eye on the faint wagon wheel tracks before them, he pulled a book out of one of his many trunks. 

 

“Demonology: Signs and Solutions.”

 

One hand twisted in the reins loosely, the other flicking through yellowed pages rapidly. The tingling feeling on the back of his neck rose with each new paragraph he read. 

 

There had to be one nearby, possibly following him. Trusting his rather sensible horse to keep on the path before them, he pulled out some talismans and chalk, beginning his work on re-demon-proofing the carriage. 

 

________

 

Jason rolled his head on his shoulders, cracking his neck, feeling the comforting muscle of the creature between his legs. The supernatural beast, like him, did not necessarily need rest or sleep, but it was appreciated when they had the time for it. And after a full night of tailing the hunter boy nonstop, he was craving a good lie down and possibly another pick me up in the form of a coyote. He was sure the horse had to be hungry at this point too. 

“It’s ok Sheila, not much longer,” he patted the mare’s neck to comfort her, the light foam of sweat dampening his glove. 

 

The rolling carriage of the boy hunter was about 100 yards ahead of them, and he wanted to wait until nightfall to catch up to the pretty boy, when he was at his strongest. The sweet virginal smell was still thick on the air, no breeze present now to waft it away from him. It was heady and intoxicating, and as badly as he wanted to tear into the boy’s throat, he knew there was something more to this little crossdressing hunter. 

 

He kept the carriage no more than a speck on his horizon, not wanting to be too obvious about following the boy, but not wanting to lose him either. 

 

There was something about him, the ease at which he approached the vamp, his assurance that he wouldn’t have any trouble. And he hadn’t been compelled to come near Jason, even though his hungry gaze. Most mortals at that point would have been pulled to him immediately, forgetting any previous obligation. But this one, he had stayed true to his task, not even turning down the alley to investigate the freshly spilled blood. 

 

If he were a supernatural, he would have smelled the blood and come to investigate. If he were merely human, he would have been unable to resist the compulsion Jason had been projecting in the bar. He had to be a halfling, or blessed in some way, to be able to take down such an aged vampire so easily, and alone to boot. 

 

The boy was a mystery, one he was desperate to solve. His desperation growing as the sun fell in the sky, the desert heat wavering the air in the distance, his horse sensing the oncoming increase in their combined strength, breaking from her consistent plot into a steady trot. 

 

_______

 

Tim had, after a long struggle with laces he couldn’t quite reach, had finally removed the corset after thoroughly demon-proofing his carriage. Rubbing at the lines and bruises left in his ribcage, he slipped on a loser shirt, settling exhausted back into his still wrapped bed roll. There was a messy map of warding sigils, and containment circles on the floor and roof of his carriage, talismans hanging from every available corner, the setting sun casting shadows over the extensive sigils. 

 

He was exhausted, not having slept for near 3 days now, and he could sense the demon still following him. There was no way he could outrun a supernatural being on horseback, let alone a demon strong enough to give him shivers a horizon away. 

 

He figured the creature would strike at night, when all evil entities were stronger, and humans eyesight and senses were weakened. His own horse was exhausted, having plodded on through the late night and all day today, with only a few short breaks for water from his personal stash. 

 

His hair stuck to his forehead and the back of his neck with sweat, and he was desperately craving a bath, the scent of the whorehouse still clinging to his sticky skin. He was almost looking forward to the demon catching up to him. After he exorcised the bastard he could actually get some fucking rest. 

 

He rummaged in one of his weapons bags for a blessed knife, as the sun finally set below the horizon, he tugged gently on the reins, halting his surely exhausted gelding. As the sky grew darker and the air grew colder, he heard thunderous hoofbeats approaching. He tightened his grip on the hilt, steeling himself for a fight his tired bones would barely be able to handle, even with all of the extra protection. 

 

______

 

As night fell, Jason grinned as the strength of the mood surged through his body, as well as the body of his mount. She burst into a gallop without his prompting, racing towards the now halted carriage. The boy must have sensed they were coming, and his grin widened. 

 

He couldn’t wait to toy with the little pretty bird. 

 

Sheila circled the carriage predatorily, snapping her too sharp teeth, shrill squeals ringing across the barren plains, her nostrils widening as she scented out her rider’s prey. 

 

A wonderful idea came to him as he dismounted Sheila, signalling her to stay put with a firm pat on her shoulder, sauntering up to the door of the carriage, knocking on it as cordially as he possibly could, stepping back, a false smile twisting his features into something near inhuman.

 

“Knock knock little birdy. I suggest you open up.”

 

“Apage!” 

 

The latin was imbued with power, but no more than enough to tickle his nose.

 

“You’re going to have to do better than ‘be gone’ with me pretty hunter.”

 

He growled deep in his throat, the threatening sound echoing deeper and further than Sheila’s, the wood of the carriage rattling with the force of it.

 

“Open up little darling, you won’t like it if I have to force my way in there...”

 

“Deus protego me ex malus.”

 

“God isn’t real sweetheart. Gotta rip that bandage off now, you’ll thank me later.”

 

Jason leapt in one bound onto the top of the carriage, hearing the boy’s heart speed up, the scrabbling of boots against wood, a knife sliding across the floor. He could smell his fear, over the horse sweat the sickly sweet smell of cloves and sage in the weak talismen the boy had futilely hung. 

 

“I’ll give you to the count of three baby bird,” he rapped his knuckles on the roof, loving the game he played, “one,” no sound, “two,” the locked door on the side rattling, “three!”

 

Without hesitation he punched through the seasoned oak, shattering the top of the carriage, falling into the cluttered space, the door on the side swinging open as the hunter dashed out of the way into the open air. 

 

“You think you could outrun me little hunter,” Jason cocked his head to the side, bones cracking unnaturally, stepping towards the door before something halted him mid-stride.

 

“What the fuck?!” 

 

He looked up and down, and then to the sides. How could he have fucking forgotten that this human had to have some idea of what he was doing. To be fair he hadn’t expected the hunter to be able to create a four-fold demon trap. There were intricate white circles drawn on every side of the carriage, each one slightly different, and each one strengthening the other. 

 

The hunters tired eyes crinkled in a smile, the dark bruises beneath his eyes fading for a moment, and for that moment, the anger in Jason’s blood lessened. 

 

Fuckin’ pretty boy.

 

“I don’t think you’ll be going anywhere soon demon,” the kid spat at him, bearing the holy blade before him, as if it was anything more than an empty threat.

 

“If you want to kill me with that, you’ll have to get a little closer, and I’m sure that my reach is longer than yours.”

 

“Maybe my aim is better than you think.”

 

“I don’t doubt it,” Jason leaned casually on the door frame, as far away as he could from the satchels that were making his scalp itch furiously, “but I also don’t doubt that my reflexes are better than you can possibly imagine. I get that blade, and I’ll be out of these traps in no time.”

Frustration flickered across the hunter’s eyes, realizing the predicament he had gotten himself into. 

 

“Excorizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica protesta...”

 

Jason laughed heartily, the weak latin exorcism doing nothing more than giving him the desire to sneeze.

 

“You think that weak shit is going to do anything to me hunter?”

 

The boy kept chanting, latin growing louder to match Jason’s volume.

 

“Omnis incursio infernalis...”

 

Through the boy’s chanting he could hear a more unsettling noise, the sound of many hooves, not horses or demons, the stench on the air ruled all of that out. 

 

“Fuck, hunter! Boy!”

 

He did not stop his chanting.

 

“You might want to look to your left! There is something more concerning to you on its way!”

 

“Stop trying to distract me demon!”

 

“I’m not, believe me, but I went to all of this trouble to find you I’d rather you not end up pig food!”

 

“What!?”

 

The hunter whipped his head to the side, eyes widening at the cloud of dust rapidly approaching them. 

 

“Javelinas.” 

 

“Yeah, uh, you might want to let me out of here darling. Otherwise I’d say you are severely outnumbered.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmk if you have any suggestions for upcoming chapters lol   
> also i know that was the exorcism from supernatural i couldnt find a real one, let alone one historical to the time and area this story takes place im sorry loves
> 
> also javelinas are not only wild desert hogs, but vicious scavengers and shape shifters, that hunt in packs, typically disemboweling thier victims with thier tusks, then shifting to human form to eat communally
> 
> our boys have a good fight ahead of them.


	4. dying is the closest we get to ecstacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> heyo so this is like twice the length of the others huzzah   
> i promise theyll bang soon this is slower burn than i thought it would be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you darlings

Tim turned on his heels, reaching into his bag for a second blade, not as holy but just as sharp, holding them before him as the cloud of stampeding monsters approached. 

 

“Rich boy you better let me out of here, unless you want to end up gored to a pulp. Those Javelinas don’t mess around.”

 

“I can handle myself demon,” Tim spat, ignoring the desperate pleas of the trapped monster. It was the same one he had sensed in the town, he was sure of it. Why the beast was after him he had no idea, but it’s horse seemed to be very concerned about the situation, baring unnatural fangs at the nearing hoard, circling Tim’s carriage as to protect it’s master. 

 

“Sheila, calm down,” the demon spoke to the animal as if it were a completely sentient, “if they get too close for comfort, run. I’ll be fine, okay?”

 

Tim shook his head, ignoring his hypnotic voice, as it once more called to him.

 

“Hunter, please! I did not hunt you down just to watch you die at the hands of these filthy pigs.”

 

“Shut the fuck up!”

 

Tim’s hands shook as the first one of the hogs came clearly into his sight, larger than any pig he had ever seen before, at least 5 feet at the shoulder, red eyes blazing in the dark desert night, long tusks glinting in the moonlight. Reacting instinctually, he plunged his blade into the rough hide of the beast’s chest, it’s squeal ringing in his ears only a moment before the next monster was on him, its raging tusks scraping against his weapons before he was able to knock it against the temple with a pommel. 

 

It fell to the ground, twisting back up to its feet and charging again, another Javelina flanking his left, rearing up to slash at his throat. 

 

Slicing it open across the belly, it fell, only for another two to take its place, one aiming low, to cut his legs out from under him, the other digging cloven hooves into his shoulder.

 

He manages to get a few short jabs, but they had him completely defensive.

 

The monsters were heavy, bearing down on his blades, he felt the unblessed one begin to splinter in his hands. 

 

He screamed in unexpected pain, as the one below him managed to spear a tusk through his thigh. 

 

Falling to one knee, his legs shaking, as he slashed blindly at the monsters surrounding him. 

 

He was given only a moment to breath, strong hooves coming down hard on his left, bone crunching beneath the weight of a horse, screaming to match the stampeding monsters. 

 

“Hunter!” The demon still trapped screeched, his voice somehow piercing through the noise of the battle, “Hunter! Free me! My horse will only be able to help you for so long you stupid boy!”

 

Tim, against his better judgement, who saw the reaper knocking on his door not for the first time that week, began to drag himself on his good leg back against the carriage wheel. 

 

From this distance he could see the monstrous horse crushing the hogs beneath its hooves.

 

His injured leg shook, as he put pressure on the profusely bleeding wound. 

 

“If you leave me here to bleed out...” Tim began, looking up through the dust at the demon pushing hard against the four-fold trap.

 

“Little bird, if the scent of your blood is anything to go by, I would be an idiot to leave you here.”

 

Tim breathed heavily, steeling himself for the pain as he hoisted himself up, dragging the holy blade across the white chalk lines beneath the demon’s feet. 

 

A shiver ran over his shoulders, sickly green eyes flashing down at Tim.

 

“Thank you.” he purred, before launching himself into the fray.

 

Tim panted heavily, gritting his teeth and wrapping his torn shirt tightly around his thigh, watching in awe as the demon tore one of the hogs throats out with his bare hands. 

 

“Shit,” he whispered. The demon and his horse moved in fluid harmony, tearing the beasts apart, some of them even mid transformation into their human forms. 

 

It was disgusting and exhilarating all the same time.

 

As the dust settled, he saw the demon standing alone amidst a pile of corpses, still steaming into the cool night air. The strange horse had drug one off to the side, and seemed to be tearing into it, the way a coyote would destroy a fallen buffalo. 

 

The demons shoulder were rising and falling as he panted heavily, wiping the blood on his trousers before turning back to Tim.

 

His vision was blurring, the screaming pain in his leg falling from the forefront of his mind. He was going into shock, he could tell from the way the demon’s face came into view, all too crisp and much too handsome. 

“Hey!” The demon’s voice was like warm chocolate filling his head, and he wanted to fall into it, let it wrap around him, and pull him away from the cold pain in his leg.

 

“Hey! Little bird. Pretty boy! C’mon, stay with me here.” 

 

“Shhhhh,” Tim’s voice was slurred, “if you w’na eat me you can jus’ take my shit to Sedona when you’re done.”

 

“Shut up im not going to eat you little hunter. Hey!” The demon snapped his fingers, drawing his focus back to those too green eyes for a moment, “I need you to stay awake!” He was fumbling with something in his belt. “What’s your name pretty boy? Huh? Can I at least get a name?”

 

Tim tried to shake his head but was overcome with a wave of nausea after even the slightest movement, “Demons,” he panted, pointing an accusing shaky finger at the creatures face, “Demon. Take my name and use it.”

 

“No, baby no,” the demon assured him. If Tim wasn’t so out of it, he would have sworn there was fear in his eyes, “just want to know your name, help keep you awake.”

 

His breathing was labored, the stars in the sky zooming in and out with each inhale and exhale, “Doesn’ matter. I’m g’nna die anyway.”

 

“No you’re not. Hey! Keep looking at me kid! Give me something to call you other than pretty boy.”

 

“Tim.”

 

“Okay, ok good. Tim? Timmy? What’s your last name? I need you to look at me.”

 

He managed to keep his fluttering eyes open for more than a second, the silver glint of a blade registering in his addled mind.

 

“Is Drake,” he slurred, “Pr’mise you won’ kill me?”

 

“I promise Timmy, but you need to do something for me first.”

 

He thought he nodded but who knew at this point. 

 

“Timothy Drake, do you give me permission to feed you my blood, to revive you with the power of hell?”

 

Tim understood maybe every other word that spilled from the demons perfect lips, but either way, he knew he would die. 

“Yes,” He murmured, slumping back against the spoked wheel, as something sweet and warm slid between his lips and down his throat.

 

_____________________________________________

 

Jason desperately cradled the hunter’s, Tim’s, head, holding his own slit wrist to his parted lips, feeding the boy his blood, holding tight the bandage around his still profusely bleeding leg. 

 

“C’mon Timmy, drink up,” He tilted his head further, pouring the blood down his throat, his panic receding as he watched the boy swallow once, twice, then three times, his breath steadying and his eyes flickering back open, this time ringed with green, “are you back with me kiddo?”

 

He moaned, the sound going straight to Jason’s gut, as the hunter latched on to his now gushing wrist, drinking hungrily, filthy slurping sounds no better than the moan for Jason’s constitution. He felt the heat rise in his cheeks, free hand brushing Tim’s hair out of his face as the blood stopped flowing from his leg and his skin no longer looked like the dead. 

 

“Tim,” he whispered, his voice cracking, dizzy not from blood loss but rather the sweet petal-like lips suckling at his veins, dark red blood staining them, the thought of how badly he wished to claim them with his own...

 

“Tim! Baby bird,” he gasped, pulling back on his too long hair, detaching his mouth from his wrist, “I know it feels good, but you have to slow down. You’re killing me here baby.”

 

Tim whined, before he realized what he was doing, the adorable sound unfortunately stopping cold in its tracks. 

 

“I.. I’m sorry.” He pulled away from Jason, turning his head to the side to feign checking on his gelding, in reality gathering his thoughts, registering the lack of pain in his leg, the clearness of his head, and the fire burning in his veins. Turning back he met the demon’s eyes, now more blue then green, the bloodlust having faded somewhat he presumed, “Thank you. For saving me,” his voice dropped to a whisper, eyes flicking away from the demon’s.

 

“It’s ok Timmy”, he tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear, wiping away a smear of blood from the corner of his perfect mouth, “It would have been easier if you had let me go when I first asked though” he smirked. 

 

“Demon...”

 

“It’s Jason.”

 

“What?”

 

“My name is Jason. Seemed only fair, I know your name.”

 

“Right. Jason.” Tim tested the syllables on his tongue, finding he liked them, “Why am I still alive?”

 

“I never set out to kill you pretty boy.”

 

“You followed me for over 30 miles.”

 

“Yeah well, you are a pretty hunter with pretty nice equipment, I can only assume not only have you killed a good number of my kind, not that they didn’t deserve it, but also would fetch a fine ransom were I to kidnap you.”

 

“Oh! So you didn't want to kill me!” Tim gasped in fake incredulity, “you only wished to kidnap and ransom me off the to highest bidder!”

 

“Oh don’t act as though I’ve offended your sensibilities,” Jason stood, offering a now bare hand to Tim, gripping his forearm and helping to pull him up to his feet, “I saw you dressed up all pretty in that whore house the other night. And don’t pretend that you wouldn’t have slaughtered me if you were capable of it.”

 

Tim nodded begrudgingly, leg shaking much less than he would have expected due to the depth of his wound.

 

“That still didn’t explain what you did to me Jason,” he glanced suspiciously at the now nearly healed gash on the demon’s wrist, and his own healing stab wound.

 

“I needed your name to have permission to heal you. You might feel some lingering effects from drinking my blood.”

 

Tim pulled away the ruined bandage from his leg, revealing a pale pink scar about the size of his fist. He rubbed at it, the lingering pain almost nonexistent. Turning his hands to reveal that his calluses and torn knuckles were healed as well. 

 

“What kind of effects?”

 

“Increased strength, increased senses, increased skin sensitivity, separation anxiety, cravings, it shouldn’t be too bad.”

 

“Wait, separation anxiety and cravings?”

 

“You aren’t going to want to be too far away from me for the next few days, and you’re going to want more of my blood, your body will adjust to having it in your system rather quickly, and be reluctant to let go of the heightened physical prowess.”

 

Jason stated this all too matter of factly. 

 

“What the fuck!?”

 

“What? You would have rather bled out in the desert?!”

 

Tim shook his head, “no just...”

 

“Just what? C’mon.” 

 

Jason had shut the door to the carriage, tying the reins of Tim’s gelding to the back of his own saddle, creating a long enough lead that he would be sure Sheila wouldn’t kick the shit out of Tim’s mortal horse. She would be more than capable of carrying them both, and with the human still in a weakened state, it would be better to have him nearby. 

 

He swiftly mounting Sheila, who was now more than satisfied by the javelina carcass, “Tim, I promise, I am not going to hurt you,” Jason held his hand out to the boy, watching him eye the horse tentatively, “and she won’t hurt you either. She doesn’t like the taste of people. I promise.”

 

Tim took the offered hand, confusion coloring his features, as he swung a leg over the mare’s back, sitting before Jason, a large arm wrapping comfortingly about his midriff. As much as he wished to shy away, it felt good to have the steady breath behind him. 

 

“Where are you taking me? I told you, I have to get to Sedona.”

 

Jason nudged Sheila into a brisk walk, her supernatural strength pulling the cart and the gelding along with ease. 

 

“And I’ll get you to Sedona baby bird, but first, you need to recover. You aren’t going to be any good for hunting for at least another week with my blood all up in you making you loopy.”

 

“I thought you said it would heighten my senses, I don’t see how that could hinder my hunting?”

 

“Heightened senses isn’t always a good thing. Especially while you’re fighting demons.”

 

“What do you mean I...”

 

His thought stopped dead in his tracks as Jason grazed his lips against the shell of Tim’s ear, hot breath ghosting over his neck, a shiver wracking his fame, involuntarily arching against the firm chest of the monster behind him. 

 

“Because of that”, Jason growled low in his throat.

 

Tim, regaining some of his sense, whipped around in the saddle, scrambling to get away to Jason, but he was held fast in his place by another soft growl.

 

“Trust me on this one, you don’t want to be running around this desert, at night, reeking of demon blood. The vampires will be on you in less than half an hour.”

 

Tim was more than a little offended, “And what makes you think I wouldn’t be able to handle myself.” He tightened his grip on the holy blade he had not released the entire time he had been in the demon’s presence, “you saw me in the bar, as you so aptly put it, I clearly know how to handle my way around a vampire.”

 

Jason chuckled, but moved back a few inches, giving Tim his space the best he could in the small saddle. 

 

“And what are you going to do little hunter, stake them one at a time while they line up and wait their turn? Run me through with that little pig sticker you keep holding on to for deal life?”

 

“This blade was blessed by the pope himself.”

 

Jason feigned shock, “Cool! Won’t do shit to me.”

 

Tim’s brow furrowed, scooching forward in the saddle as far as he could to be away from the begrudgingly comfortable warmth of the other man in the cold desert night. He wished his shirt was more than shreds hanging off of him. 

 

As if Jason could read his mind, a heavy sarape dropped over his shoulders, woolen fabric itchy but warm. 

 

“You were shivering. I’m not that stupid when it comes to humans, I promise.”

 

“You’re a monster.”

 

“Yeah well you’re the one still sitting on this horse with me.”

 

“Fuck you.”

 

“Gladly, but at least let me get you into a bed first.”

Tim stiffened. 

 

“Where are you taking me, demon.”

 

“Like I said, it’s Jason. And like I said, somewhere safe.”

 

“What is safe for you could easily be a bloodbath for me.”

 

“I didn’t track you for over 30 miles just to lead you to a well crafted slaughter.”

 

“Then tell me where you’re taking me.”

 

“If you must know, one of my cabins. We’re about 5 miles north of it right now.”

 

Tim twisted around in his seat, glaring up and down at the nonchalant demon, who did not meet his eyes.

 

“Oh?! So you can make a meal out of me there instead.”

 

“Do you think everything is an elaborate plot against your life?”

 

“I always think everything is a trap. That’s why I’m still alive.”

 

“Paranoid little bird. No wonder you made it this far while being this small.”

 

“I am not small!” Tim’s voice cracked in incredulity, ruining any point he may have been able to make.

 

“Yeah, okay.”

 

“Just because you’re a giant doesn’t mean that I am small.”

 

“Just because you are tiny doesn’t make me a giant.”

 

Tim grumbled, pulling the sarape tighter around himself. He didn’t think it smelled good. It was just part of the demon’s compulsion. Cursing himself mentally for giving the creature his name, for letting it feed him its blood. 

 

In his defense, would have most surely bled out in a few minutes without the intervention. He could only imagine the demon’s ulterior motives. 

 

He was still light headed, the adrenaline that had fueled him through the fight, the endorphins from the pain, and surge of energy from the demon blood was finally wearing off. Before he realized what he was doing, he was slumped against Jason’s chest, a strong arm wrapping around him once more.

 

Tim attempted to shove him off, wobbling in the saddle, Jason’s grip tightening around his waist.

 

“Woah Timmy, I’m guessing you didn’t sleep that much all in the past few days.”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“You’re crashing. You need to sleep. I won’t let you fall.”

 

“How do I know I can trust you.”

 

“You’ve already got my blood coursing through your veins. I think we’re a little past trust at this point darling. “

 

His eyes fluttered closed, not of his own volition, sagging forward in his seat, sleep rushing up upon him faster than he could keep up with it. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you darlings, if you have input please feel free to share!


End file.
